Switch
by Vaughn's Jenn
Summary: *2* On April 24, 1976, the identical twin daughters of Irina Derevko were born. Though both were full of life, one was pronounced dead and put in a coffin to send to the morgue. The truck carrying the coffin was stopped by the KGB. Enter Vienna Derevko.
1. 1

**Switch**

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**This story is borne from an idea by your own Dream Writer 4 Life.**

**Becky: Sorry it took so long to get started… even though I had your [amazing] key points, I still had to formulate my own plot first. So here it is, I hope I do your idea justice and am able to convey the same ideas that you wanted me too. Wish me luck, I've never written someone else's idea before~**

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**1.**

_[It is the evening of __April 24, 1976__.]_

_She gasped in a quick breath as she felt the pain spread throughout her body once again and clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. This was a pain that she had never experienced though it was considerably dwarfed by the knowledge of what was to come._

_She closed her eyes as she felt Jack's hand land on her now shaking shoulder, could feel his concern permeating her skin and reaching her heart, distracting her from planning on what would now occur. _

_A new sensation.___

_Her mouth fell open in a slight "o" as she turned her head to look into his face. "Jack, get my bag."_

_His eyes lit up with an emotion that she found she could not describe. It was one full of love and devotion as well as concern and excitement she was sure but the combination and mixture of all these emotions was one too heavy for her to even begin to analyze._

_"Where is it?"_

_She hesitated. She needed to buy time. "I think that it's under the bed but if it's not then it might be in the back of my closet."_

_It was in the cupboard next to the doorway._

_He went off, hurriedly, panicked as she, despite the ever-present waves of pain rolling throughout her system, calmly picked up the telephone and, attaching the bug killer, dialed a familiar number._

_{in Russian}_

_"Send in the team, the address is unchanged. Take the first one. The room on the third floor should be reserved under panic order and the head surgeon will be Dr. Richard Oakes."_

_There was an affirmative. _

_She quickly took off the small metal pin from the cord and dialed the hospital, informing them that she was on her way. _

_She leaned heavily against the wall as she made her way down the seemingly endless hallway to the door where Jack was waiting, bag in hand. "It was in the cupboard."_

_She smiled wanly as her face contorted with pain once more. "Silly me, I must have forgotten."_

_They reached the hospital at a record time- 12 minutes and 34 seconds, an entire 6 minutes after the team had entered._

_Two streets away, a black van drove off, having served its purpose._

_On the fifth floor, another pregnant woman under a panic order was ushered into the delivery room, snagging the first available standby crew, conveniently waiting for the arrival of a Mrs. Bristow. Dr. Richard Oakes was marked as "unavailable" on the chart and four hours later, Anastasia Drigochev's daughter was born._

_In their place strode in another crew, stoic, emotionless, utterly professional. They carried with them two thin files and introduced themselves as the new transfers from the pediatric and infant care section of the hospital in the next city._

_The computer confirmed their statement._

_And so it happened that the identical twin daughters of Irina Derevko were delivered by a Dr. Aleksandr Kirkoff. One was pronounced healthy, beautiful, and, wailing, was placed into the arms of the expectant mother. She was given the name __Sydney__. _

_The other, just as loud, just as full of life was, at the slight nod of Derevko's head, pronounced dead upon delivery and placed into a small coffin where it was stored in a truck waiting to deliver bodies to the morgue._

_Five blocks away from the morgue, a group of three men stepped in front of the automobile and without hesitation, shot a bullet through the glass cleanly into the head of the driver inside._

_The earlier-described coffin was taken out of the rear and placed into another vehicle close by._

_Anastasia Drigochev, the pregnant women admitted earlier in the hospital, was given the child. She set aside her own newborn and placed her in the soft bed of blankets next to her before picking up this new stranger and settling her at her breast._

_The infant stopped crying._

_Vienna__ Derevko was now property of the KGB._

_11 miles away, two parents wept for the death of one of their children._

_Sydney Bristow lay in her crib, fast asleep._

TBC…

Hey… so what did you guys think? I know that it must have been a bit aggravating because it was all in italics but I wanted to stress that all this obviously occurred in the past. 

Becky, I know that so far I've only gotten to about one of your 5-6 general ideas but I hope I've written it well… it was a blast to write and I was on such a roll that this chap was cranked out in about 15 minutes. Thank you so much, I have a feeling I'm going to love writing this. Let me know if you have something else in mind though I might end up straying from your plot a bit if it gets too specific.

I wasn't planning on calling Sydney's twin sister "Vienna" but that for some reason popped into my head and now I really really like it… it sounds really pretty to me but then again maybe that's just me. 

Anyway… review for the next chapter~ Curious about Vienna? Sydney? You should be… Becky's laid out one hell of a plot. Whoa…just realized (with the help of SAG) that both Sydney and Vienna are names of cities in countries that sounds strangely alike to one another…hmmm… 

Sydney Australia Bristow… Vienna Austria Derevko… haha…wow I really have to lay off the caffeine… (and yes I'm just kidding about the middle names)~

-Jennifer


	2. 2

**Switch**

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_Wow, thank you all so much for R/Ring this fic; I'm so happy that you guys all like it so far and I hope that I will be able to maintain your interest and write this story the way it's supposed to be written… in other words, ::lifts up champagne glass:: here's to not completely screwing up._

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2.

"This one's going to be dangerous, Syd." 

She grinned, loving him for his concern but unable to keep the smile from her face. "They're always dangerous, Vaughn. And I always come back so stop worrying."

_Stop worrying… how the hell can I stop worrying?_ He shook his head a little ruefully. "I know that you're good Syd. But it's my_ job to worry about you and I've always been good at my job."_

Sydney nodded, smiling sweetly. "My guardian angel."

Looking down before his blush was noticeable, he sat down on the crate and opened the thin manila envelope that sat by his side. "Like I said, this one's going to be dangerous. The CIA has received Intel about a Rambaldi artifact that is supposedly essential to his proof of eternal life.

"The only problem is we aren't the only ones who know about it. We know that the Russian Directorate has information about it and, though the KGB is gone, we believe that a faction of it has formed. They have everything we need to know about obtaining this artifact. The only problem is that they know that too. 

"So instead of just getting there, you also have to get there _before them. And Syd… this is just from me. I have connections, as you know, with one of the moles in the French Mafia. He's outwardly freelance but he's working for us and he told me about her."_

"Her?"

"The leading agent on the Russian side. Supposedly unbeatable; trained by The Man himself."

Sydney raised her eyebrows, silent for a moment. He was about to question the sudden concern and doubt that ran across her face when they cleared and she looked up, smiling. "Think I can take her?"

Vaughn smiled. Sydney was never one to back down on a challenge.  "Of course."

_{Years Ago}_

_It was now, right at this moment, that Irina was supposed to swerve. Bracing herself, allowing herself one last free moment of thought before driving off the road, she clutched at the steering wheel and turned it forcefully. _

_It hurt more than she thought it would though she wasn't totally sure that she could separate the physical hurt from the hurt she had inflicted upon herself mentally. Though she tried to block out everything but her objective, she couldn't help the way her mind wandered over to her daughter._

_She consoled herself rather quickly with a shake of her head and slowly began to roll down the window, allowing the water to seep into the car and equalize the pressure._

_She watched without a word, almost without a thought, as the water level began rising faster and faster. She lifted her face towards the ceiling of the car, forcing herself not to shiver from the cold that was now permeating her clothing and soaking the skin of her waist. _

_When the water reached mere centimeters from her nose, she took a last breath before opening the car door and swimming out. Raising her head towards the water's surface, she saw the blinking police lights and wondered, momentarily, if Jack was waiting for her. Dead or alive._

_She quickly undid the opening of the tire and sucked the air that it provided despite her burning lungs._

_Twenty minutes later, she saw the lights recede and knew that they were bringing the divers to retrieve her dead body._

_They never found it._

"Are you ready?"

She shook her head, unable to use her voice for audio conformation because of the bobby pins she was holding between her lips as she fastened her hair behind her and grabbed the sand-red wig that sat beside her. "Almost, hold on a bit."

She adjusted the dusty red wig one last time before stepping out the car. "Perfect."

Almost immediately, she began mentally running through her alias and all of the factors that came with it. The voice that repeated all these things to her in her head had a thick Russian accent. 

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She laid down her bags and smiled at the young man behind the counter.

"Hello, my name is Mischa Derkovich and I have a seat reserved for the 10 o'clock plane to Minsk." 

The young man saw her and, after restraining himself from committing any extremely nervous actions, managed to smile. He had noted the way that her posture was rigidly straight and professional; the way that this stance clashed with her striking hair and distinct face… a face that seemed to promise so much more than what it expressed. "The purpose of your visit?"

"I work with the International Relations department of my company and we are in dire need of some documents from our branch in Russia." Her tone, clipped, was precise in every word as only a foreigner could be; the accent was cut short on every syllable, made to disappear once the word was uttered.

She leaned over the counter, smiling at him, watching as he felt the full effects of her smoky eyes and perfectly tousled dark red hair. His gaze traveled downwards, taking in her elegant pantsuit that still managed to show off her spectacular figure.

He refocused his gaze towards the computer monitor.

"All right Ms. Derkovich, would you prefer a window or aisle seat?"

"Aisle."

_{1980}_

_Irina__ Derevko could barely believe her eyes when she saw her daughter sitting before her. She had known that she would be here yet it still seemed so surreal that this daughter that was considered dead in her household could be alive here and so… so very much like Sydney herself._

_"Hello __Vienna__."_

_The girl looked up, an unreadable expression masking her face in a way that shocked Irina. Despite physical appearance, this girl was very different from her __Sydney__. This girl had already been exposed to truths that were far too mature for her to have found. _

_"They told me that my mother was coming today."_

_"They were right."_

_Sydney__ would have ran to her and embraced her had she seen her mother. But this tiny child merely nodded. And sat there._

_"I think I would rather be your student. They tell me that you are very good at what you do."_

_Sydney__ would be talking about her day at school; perhaps bubbling with another story of how a teacher had complimented her._

_"You speak very good English, __Vienna__."_

_"I know. But I am anxious to learn German, mother. They tell me that you have exquisite German."_

_Sydney__ would have been anxious to bake cookies; anxious to engage in a flour fight._

_"Don't you want to play?"_

_"I am."_

_"Very well."___

_"I know the basics already. Herr Kirkoff was glad to teach me the pronouns and basic sentence structure before you arrived."_

_Irina__ paused; still shaken by this old woman that was sitting before her in her daughter's body. __Sydney__ could have been capable of this; she would be capable of this. But _Vienna__…___Vienna__ was truly the one she needed to be with. _

_The one that needed to be taught precision and accuracy as well as the differences between the two.___

_Sydney__ would learn what was needed to be learned. And __Vienna__ would inherit everything else._

_"How long did it take you __Vienna__?"_

_"Herr Kirkoff wanted me to be able to show you my progress. We began to learn when we heard you had arrived at the airport."_

_"I see."_

**TBC… ehh… not extremely happy with this chapter so if enough of you tell me to rewrite it, I will… the flashbacks are okay but the present portion seems shaky to me… then again I've been tap dancing for about 6 hours… GAH**

**~JenNifEr**


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